All The King's Horses
by Valiya
Summary: For Haru, galloping down the last stretch for the finish line has always felt like coming home. But in his last year of school and uncertain of allowing himself to be driven towards a career as a professional jockey, Haru finds himself questioning whether his love for racing could be hindered by the prospects of a famous reputation without his friends and the horse he loves most.
1. Morning Breeze

_For Haruka Nanase, galloping down the homestretch for the finish line has always felt like coming home. While Makoto, Nagisa and Rin continue to train hard to pursue their own dreams as professional riders, Haru finds himself struggling against a world that desperately wants to shape him into a prodigy he has never wanted to become. But in his last year of school and uncertain of allowing himself to be driven towards a career as a professional jockey, Haru finds himself questioning whether his love for racing could be hindered by the prospects of a famous reputation without his friends and the horse he loves most._

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><p><strong>Morning Breeze<strong>

As he turns the car into his usual parking space, Haruka inhales the familiar smell of dew as he slips out of the driver's seat and zips up his boots on the wet grass. From the other side of the yard, Goro throws his customary greeting at him with a loud shout, brandishing his broom as he informs Haru that one of the owners wants to see him after he is finished. With a small smile, Haru nods once to his former trainer as he slides the bolt across and slips through the door into the racing barn.

Inside, he is met by twenty curious heads that all poke out from over their stable doors. The soft whickers of welcome rush over him like a warm wave, soaking him with gratitude as he wanders down the aisle, reaching out to stroke each inquisitive nose as they inspect him for treats. He digs his fingers into his jacket, pulling out a packet of mints that he shares out amongst them as their eyes brighten and their ears flick forwards at the recognisable sounds of wrapping paper.

He makes his way slowly to and from each stable, finally coming to a halt when he reaches the last where his dark stallion waits patiently for him to walk over. As he offers out the mint on an outstretched palm, Loch gently takes it from his hand, pushing his muzzle into Haru's palm and blowing an affectionate greeting. His rider leans into his warmth, resting his forehead against his own as he speaks to him in his usual quiet tone.

"Ready to stretch those legs?"

The stallion blows gently against his fingers in response, and Haru reaches up to brush aside his forelock to rub small circles into his forehead, tracing light patterns over his face. Loch's eyes flicker shut and he leans deeper into his rider's palm, sighing contentedly as Haru's fingers circle his eyes and then sweep up to carefully massage the inside of his ears. After several minutes by which Loch has almost started to doze, Haru treats him to another polo before backing out of the stable and starts to walk quietly down the aisle. Behind, he can hear the muffled clop of hooves following close at his heel. He would never do this with any other horse, but he trusts this horse with his life more than anyone, knowing that he would never do anything sudden or foolish.

He starts by picking out each hoof carefully, digging out any unwanted remains down the clefts and brushing clean the toe. A thorough brush of the body followed by a quick towel sweep leaves a gleaming coat, and Haru digs out another polo packet before heading down to the tack-room.

As he finishes buckling each strap and wrapping Loch's legs in his work bandages, Loch cranes his neck around every so often and gazes intently at him as if urging him to get a move on. He mounts him in the barn, letting him walk out on a loose rein all the way to the track, where once in sight, Loch's head rises and his ears are fixed forwards. His stride quickens, and Haru gathers up his reins and slides his feet into the stirrups as the stallion begins to pull down on the bit, his strides lengthening and increasing until he looks like he's straining himself against Haru's arms. His jockey allows him to break into a trot; Loch takes fast advantage of this to push off into a fast, bouncy rhythm to which Haru pushes himself up off the saddle into a crouch over his withers. His words are carried by the wind as he speaks softly to the pricked ears still pointed fixatedly at the distance ahead of them, but after several minutes of this, he finally inches his fingers up the reins and Loch reacts instantly. His canter is luckily not as bouncy as his trot, but Loch is still leaning against Haru with his shoulders, desperately pleading with him to let go. Years of breezing and races have given his rider a strong back and muscled shoulders, so Haru continues to resist Loch's wishes until they pass the finish line once more and he finally takes a proper contact.

It is a feeling he thinks he will never be able to experience on any other horse. Loch half-springs forwards, powerful hindquarters uncoiling to release all that suppressed energy as he surges forwards into a gallop. The wind is whipping against Haru's face, biting at his skin as he pushes his hands a little further up the thoroughbred's neck to encourage him to extend himself. Both horse and jockey are an arrow in the morning sunrise, slicing through the air with such a force that Haru is sure the sound of Loch's thundering hoofbeats are reverberating through his head. But like this he is once again nestled in that incomparable sensation between exhilaration and complete serenity, and there is no place that he has felt safer and at peace with everything around him.

* * *

><p>Five minutes later after coming off the bridle, Loch's breathing is back to normal, but a damp sheen is still visible on his neck and behind his ears. As Haru turns him off the track and back to the barn, the sound of his name being called makes him twist in the saddle. A man strides out of the clubhouse, walking towards him with the manner of someone who is accustomed to having the world wait for him. Haru quickly notes the tailored suit and expression of superiority the man wears as he slowly approaches Loch and himself, finally coming to a stop some feet in front of him. His pale eyes travel over the stallion's elegant form appraisingly, calculating a brief assessment of his conformation before finally flicking upwards to his rider.<p>

"You are Mr. Nanase?" Haru's response is a small, sharp nod. The man shifts his weight to one leg, pushing a hand into his trousers' pocket as he gestures towards Loch, who has started to chew on his bit as he descends into a working frame. "He looks a fine animal."

"He is." Haru's tone is measured, but slightly wary. The man's eyes are cold, grey flints that seem to bore into him, and although his smile is polite, it is artificial and insincere.

"Are you still at school?" This time, Haru feels as if he is the one being weighed and measured; those steely eyes look up him and down, and a crease pinches his brows together as if he seems doubtful of Haru's position on a thoroughbred of Loch's calibre. "They told me you were young, but I didn't expect you to be a lad still cramming your homework in between breaks and lunchtimes."

If a flicker of annoyance crosses Haru's features, the man is ignorant of it. "I'm in my last year." He is not entirely sure whether he has managed to keep the irritation from his tone. Loch shifts impatiently.

"Well, Mark thinks very highly of your ability on the track." He is referring to the manager of the stables, and it most likely answers as to how this man came out looking for Haru at such an early hour in the morning. "Told me how for the past couple of years you've been giving the winner's circle a stream of his horses."

Haru says nothing. Loch has now started gnawing on the toe of his boot; an old habit that Haru let him get away with when he started sitting in his stable for hours on end. He chooses to just let the man continue, as he has already sensed that he will soon come to the proper purpose of his conversation, and he still has four more horses to breeze.

"I have a couple of fillies and a stallion arriving tomorrow morning that are going to be racing for the first time this month. Would you be interested in them?" Almost as if in response, Loch twists back around and snorts. The man withdraws sharply, one hand reaching up to smooth the front of his jacket in reassurance. Haru's gaze drops down to his stallion, who is still watching the man with a mischievous glint in his eye. Deciding that a quick answer will prevent Loch from considering another cheeky attempt, Haru pushes his heels into his sides and Loch walks on gratefully.

"I'll try them the day after if you'd like. It might be a good idea to let them settle and get used to the yard before any exercise."

The expression he receives is one that is both obliged and oddly pleased. As Loch passes by, the man swiftly fishes out his wallet and extracting his contact details which he hands over to the young jockey.

"Eric Murstone. Pleased to make your acquaintance." And with that, he dips his head once and turns back to his car. Thankfully, he has the sense to let Loch and Haru pass before roaring the engine to life and pulling out of the drive.

As Haru dismounts, Loch blows out through his nostrils in a resounding chuff, pushing his muzzle against his rider's hip, who smiles amusedly at him before retrieving the polo packet from his pocket. Once satisfied with his reward, Loch allows Haru to untack him without protest, only flicking his tail once in Haru's face as he heads towards the tack room with his saddle and numnah. As he emerges from the tack-room, he is met by Goro, who is standing by Loch who is taking advantage of his old trainer's soft-heartedness by having his ears massaged again.

"He'll take himself out for a run one of these days if you continue to leave him untethered like this," Goro remarks as Haru approaches them wordlessly. He is secretly thankful that it is Goro who found Loch standing alone and not Mark, who although tolerates Haru's unique methods of handling his favourite horses, does not appreciate the hazard of having a seven hundred thousand pounds worth athlete charging like a tornado around his racing yard.

"He knows he's not to get any ideas like that." Haru extends an upturned palm and Loch transfers his affections to his faithful jockey, blowing gently into his hand. He is pretty certain that the stallion has already run through a considerate number of possibilities in his head, but the fact that he's never acted on them is enough for Haru to know that he will remain honest for a long time.

"That horse trusts you more than anyone in this stables," Goro comments as Haru rubs the heel of his palm against Loch's forehead. "I still remember you giving those new grooms the worst turn of their lives when they saw him wandering down the corridor without seeing you walking ahead of him." Haru can't help letting a small smile curve the corner of his mouth at the memory.

"I'll hot-walk him for you," Goro offers, taking hold of Loch's reins. Loch gives the groom a look that Haru silently swears looks offended. Goro chuckles heartily but adds, "you'll appreciate me more than that new kid that walked you last time. He looked like he was going to drop dead by the time you hauled him back." He runs a hand down Loch's neck caringly, and the young horse decides that perhaps this substitute might fare well better than the last.

Haru watches his stallion disappear around the side of barn before turning back into the tack-room. He assumes that Goro is taking Loch to one of the trails that Haru and some of the other exercise riders recently adopted as their cooling-off route, and tries to conciliate himself with the thought that Loch will enjoy the scenery, even though it will be without him. He quells his dampened mood by collecting the tack for his next horse, draping the bridle over his shoulder as he walks down to the stall where a dark bay stallion cranes his neck around inquisitively to watch Haru pull down the saddle rack set into the wall.

Extortionist is one Loch's half-brothers; Haru has often contemplated whether their matrilineal line has given them the remarkable speed they both possess, as they both descend from the famous mare Lochsong. The young horse nibbles at Haru's shirt while he cleans out his hooves and brushes down his coat before tacking him, taking care to tighten the girth carefully because he knows that he might have a pair of teeth sinking into his arm if he isn't gentle. He mounts Extortionist outside, who automatically begins to shuffle about restlessly, jogging on the spot with his ears pointed towards the direction of the racetrack.

* * *

><p>It is a quarter past seven by the time Haru finishes cooling down his last ride. After a good forty minutes of dancing around the track, the chestnut filly he is riding is now walking on a loose rein with her nose stretched towards the ground, chewing on the bit as she stretches out her back muscles.<p>

One of the grooms offers to wash her down and walk her for another ten minutes before putting her back in her stable. Haru allows himself to accept the girl's kind offer, because he can see that Loch has been eyeing him enviously from his end stable ever since he put Extortionist back in his stall and offered him some of Loch's favourite polos.

He returns to his stallion after fishing out a titbit for the chestnut filly, who tries her best to take his fingers along with the treat. He runs his hand under the hose before drying them on his breeches, reaching out to give Extortionist's muzzle an affectionate rub who noses him hopefully as he passes by. Loch waits patiently as Haru approaches, but immediately gives Haru a small shove in the stomach to inform him that he took a little too long. A small smile weaves across Haru's face as he leans against the stable door to knead his knuckles into the young thoroughbred's neck. He waits for the familiar twitch of his crest before Loch's head finally droops, pressing his weight into Haru's fingers.

They remain like that for several minutes until Goro comes looking for Haru. Loch's head jerks up as the groom cards a hand through his hair, a sign Haru recognises to convey Goro's frustration or anxiety about something.

"Mark's looking for you, Haru. Wants to talk to you at some point before he leaves to meet up with a woman interested in breeding her mare with one of our stallions."

"Which one?"

"Diamont. The woman must have money to roll in if she wants a foal from him."

Haru says nothing in response, but his thoughts have already carried him off into the beloved memory of a tiny little black colt flying across a green field with his mum cantering alongside him. He remembers standing by the gate, transfixed as the dark bay mare trots over to inspect him for food before turning back and leaving her foal standing several metres from him. He'd kept very still, his chest tight with contained excitement as the colt had taken a few cautious paces towards him and then off to the side, weighing up how curious he should get with this new stranger. Loch's mother had been surprisingly indulgent in allowing Haru to remain so close enough to her foal; she had stood a short distance away, watching attentively as the little colt took one small step closer until finally getting close enough to sniff Haru's fingers curled around the gate.

"I think I've lost your attention, haven't I?"

Goro's voice swims back into Haru's current train of thought, tugging him sharply out of his reverie. Loch's upper lip wiggles the fabric of his rider's shirt aside, trying to get at the polo packet in his breeches. Pushing himself off the stable door, Haru relents at the sight of Loch cocking his head to one side and stretching out his neck to pout at him pointedly.

"Was Mark in his office when he asked for me?"

"In the clubhouse, actually. He'd been talking to that man who was asking after you and wanting to move some of his youngsters here to train them." This memory draws a frown across Haru's solemn face. His old trainer notices and folds his arms over his chest. "I wasn't that struck on him either. He seemed a bit strange; like it wasn't horses that he was passionate about but rather the benefits you reap from them."

Haru finds himself feeling slightly more relieved at the fact that his senses weren't wrong earlier that morning. There has been a tightness in his gut since then telling him he wants nothing to do with a man who shares no interest in the magnificence of such beautiful creatures. But unfortunately, his say in the matter is limited at best.

"It looks like you've just gotten company," Goro observes, a grin crinkling his features as he raises a hand to greet a tall figure walking down the aisle towards them.

A boy with ruffled brown hair returns Goro's gesture with a wave. A few of the horses are curious enough to turn from munching their hay to poke their heads out over their doors, and the newcomer pauses to greet each one with a warm smile and a quick rub of their foreheads. As he finally reaches Loch's stall, the stallion considers him for a brief moment before tipping his head to one side again and trying his luck by pleading with him the same way he'd begged Haru a few moments before. The boy laughs, but holds up his hands apologetically. Loch retaliates with a snort of disapproval, but still gives him a nudge with his nose.

"Looks like someone's used to being spoiled," Makoto comments good-naturedly as Loch refocuses his attention back on Haru.

"It doesn't make him disrespectful, so I indulge him once in a while." Haru's fingers thread though Loch's thick forelock, fingers tracing the outline of his white star. "Didn't expect you to be here this early."

"I would've texted, but since you never carry your phone, there wasn't much point." There is a knowing look in Makoto's eyes that Haru has long since gotten used to, so he says nothing in response.

"Well he's here for almost the whole of the day, so it's not too difficult for Mark or someone else to try and find him," Goro points out jokingly, the mirth deepening his voice. "Speaking of which; you'd better go and find him now before he heads off."

Remorsefully, Haru gives Loch one last rub of his nose before setting off down the corridor. Makoto offers to redeem himself by asking for some of Haru's mints, and he pushes the half-eaten packet into his palm before striding down towards the drive.

Mark is already halfway down the clubhouse steps before he spots Haru walking towards him. "Ah, Haru. I can't talk right now because I'm supposed to be meeting someone at quarter past ten and it's going to take me a while to get there with all the traffic." Haru halts in mid-step, a little unsure of what to do now that he is subtly being dismissed, but Mark prevents any further discomfiture by asking, "what about tomorrow morning?"

Haru's reply is a simple nod, and Mark takes it as a good enough answer, because he gives his jockey a parting smile before sliding into his car and pulling out his phone to presumably call his potential client.

The journey back to the barn is with considerably more enthusiasm, but Haru's intentions are momentarily cut off at the sight of Makoto emerging outside. He is deep in conversation with Goro who is chortling loudly at whatever comical tale his former student is regaling him with, but upon catching sight of him, Makoto looks surprised.

"That was a short talk."

"He was in a rush, so he said tomorrow would be better." Haru starts trying to edge around the pair of them to get to the barn, but Makoto quickly sidesteps in front of him.

"Would you like to come to Riverhill and see me exercise Tamira?" His eyes are earnest and hopeful, and Haru briefly considers what would be an automatic refusal before reconsidering the idea. He hasn't seen Riverhill Equestrian Centre for almost the whole of summer and he does miss the horses there. He imagines how Loch would react to this proposal, and the thought of his wounded expression almost convinces him to say he can't because he still has to feed Loch's barn and clean the tack he's used.

Makoto has already sensed his hesitation, because he quickly adds, "My mum dropped me off here on her way to work, so I don't have transport to the yard."

"You did that on purpose didn't you?" It could have been a biting remark, but there is a familiar sparkle in his winter-blue gaze that Makoto distinguishes as Haru's bitter way of teasing. He gives Haru a sheepish, lopsided grin.

"Well, Nagisa messaged me the other day begging me to try and get you to come down at some point. Plus I'm sure Calantha would love to see you."

All of a sudden, Haru is aware of the rigidness in his upper body. His heart seems to push against ribs at the mention of Calantha's name, and he knows that it is nostalgia tugging at him. Goro reaches out to clap a hand down on Haru's shoulder and squeeze it.

"I can feed the horses myself in a few hours. And I'm sure Alex wouldn't mind helping me polish up the tack while you visit your other four-legged friends over there."

Haru is silent, trapped in a state of deliberation that leaves Makoto shifting his weight from one foot to the other anxiously while Goro watches the both of them with an inexplicable air of exasperated humour. Eventually, he wordlessly steps around Makoto to disappear into the tack-room for a minute, returning with his car key and two fresh packets of polos.

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><p>Rin bites out a sarcastic comment at the choice of the radio channel his sister has chosen. She retaliates with her own cutting retort, prodding the button that increases the volume hastily to drown out any further complaints from her brother, who is pointing out that he has had about four hours of disrupted sleep and is being considerate enough to take her to her riding lesson.<p>

"It's not my fault you took the train late last night and not in the morning. You would've had plenty of time to recuperate if you hadn't left your yard so late because you couldn't pull yourself away from that stallion of yours."

"That's rich coming from you," Rin throws back. But Kou has already pulled out a book and is propping her knees up against the dashboard in a very clear gesture that she is no longer going to pay any more attention to her brother's irritability. He digs his thumbs into the leather of the steering wheel, trying his best not to grind his jaw as he settles himself for the upcoming half an hour drive down to Riverhill.


	2. Riverhill

_Author's note: Sorry this chapter took so long. You'll soon learn that my updates will be slow, mainly because the competition season has just started and I'm now teaching at my old stables on top of training at my current one._

_I thought I'd better explain this now in case there's any confusion: this story is set in England with the idea that Haru, Makoto, Rin and Nagisa met as children at Riverhill due to having group lessons together. I decided to use England because I know the racing systems there better than in other countries like America or Australia. I know that Japan has gotten big into racing, but in order to facilitate the other equestrian sports like cross-country and show-jumping that Nagisa and Makoto do, I thought England would be the easiest 'cause it's a very horsey country._

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><p><strong>Riverhill<strong>

The area surrounding Haru's old stables is blanketed in thick forestland, with trees and shrubbery bordering the edges of the road. This makes it difficult when a large tractor comes rolling around a bend, and Haru is forced to slow down to a crawl and squeeze his little Ford Fiesta past. Turning off down a wide, sandy pathway leading to the drive, he pulls aside and stops to let several riders going out on a hack pass by safely.

As he watches their progress in his rear-view mirror, he begins to ease his foot off the brake when a booted toe reaches out and thuds on the passenger window. Makoto yelps, instinctively grabbing at his seatbelt as he lurches himself away from the glass towards Haru, who just manages not to slam down on the brakes again and jolt the car. He is lucky that his instincts have obeyed him, because standing right next to the car is a buckskin horse, and the rider who leans down precariously from its saddle is a boy with dishevelled blond hair peeking out from beneath his helmet.

"Mako-chan! Haru-chan!"

"Nagisa?!" Makoto gawps confoundedly at the sight of the boy dangling haphazardly beside him.

"Roll your window down! I want to talk you." As Makoto obliges, the buckskin swivels to push his nose into the car and blow cheekily into the passenger's face.

"Oh, hello Chunky." Makoto chuckles as the horse wiggles his lips against his outstretched fingers.

"He's probably looking for Haru's polos," Nagisa remarks wisely, giving the gelding an affectionate pat. At this, Haru's eyes flick down towards the two packets sitting in the cup-holder. The gelding has spotted them as well, because he tries to stretch further into the car, flattening Makoto against the seat in an eager attempt to reach the mints. Nagisa shortens his reins slowly and squeezes his heels into the buckskin's sides with a cluck of his tongue; thankfully, Chunky takes this instruction with respect and extracts his head.

"You could have spooked him, you know," Makoto points out critically, grimacing as the horse licks the palm of his hand in the hope that his demand has been transferred correctly. The gelding blinks at him with large, questioning eyes.

"Nah, he's bombproof. He needs to be on the courses we do."

"Can I move on?" Haru leans forwards in his seat to peer past Makoto wiping his hand on his breeches, and Nagisa's eyes brighten immediately at the sight of him.

"Sure you can. We'll walk alongside."

When Haru finally turns into an empty space, Nagisa dismounts lightly beside the car and fishes out a piece of carrot from his jacket.

"Thanks for nearly breaking the window." As Haru rounds the back of the car, Chunky's ears swivel forwards at the sight of a familiar face. He begins to push against Nagisa, who seems to slide a foot across the sand as his horse urges him enthusiastically towards Haru.

"Ooh, sorry—wasn't just thinking. Is there any damage?" Anxiety flickers momentarily across Nagisa's expression as he squints at the glass. He quickly pulls Chunky's head away from Haru when the gelding tries to make another beeline for him, his mischievous eyes fixated on the pocket where the carrot had come from.

"No, but remember it's not exactly mine." Haru thinks unconsciously of Mark showing him the little Ford several months ago before pushing the key into his hand with a grin.

"Did you go for a hack by yourself?" Always ready to jump in as peacekeeper, Makoto manipulates the subject skilfully by directing their attention towards Chunky, who has decided to redirect his attention by browsing the taller boy expectantly for treats.

"I finished schooling him half an hour ago and thought I'd kill time waiting by taking him for a walk through one of the fields." Nagisa rubs the gelding's forehead affectionately, combing his fingers through his untidy forelock and prying a piece of wood shaving from the strands. He immediately has to transfer his own weight against the gelding when begins to scratch his head eagerly against his rider's shoulder.

Haru regards the little buckskin thoughtfully. In truth, he isn't that small, standing at about sixteen-two hands, but perhaps it's Makoto, who towers over both Nagisa and Chunky that makes him look smaller. Chunky, short for 'Chunky Monkey', is a fearless, Irish-bred machine of bottled energy that can explode with the force of a cannon if his rider encourages him. With an impressive amount of endurance and agile on a sharp turn, it is no wonder he and his rider have often walked away from competitions with numerous placings.

Relenting, Haru fishes out one of the polo packets and digs out several of the mints as Makoto gives Chunky a final pat before heading towards the stables. As they lead his horse towards the second barn, Nagisa maintains an animated conversation with Haru, whose responses are considerably less elaborated.

"Are you going to ride Calantha? It's been years since the three of us had a lesson together."

"I'd have to get permission from someone."

"Hmm, I'm sure you wouldn't need to. You used to spend every waking hour up here before you ditched us for Topthorn." Nagisa grins at the sight of Haru's face working itself into his familiar pout. "Not that I'm having a go," he throws in, his nonchalance a transparent façade as he looks contemplative. "I suppose I should have seen it—finding more freedom in racing than dressage."

Haru does not provide a response to this. Once again, his mind has already carried him back into the past. Three years ago, he was pushing Calantha into a half-pass across the centre to the opposite quarter line, ignoring the looks of admiration and awe from small children and their parents as he schooled the mare alone in one of the dressage arenas. He remembers the years before that: Makoto, looking slightly nervous but excited at the course of fences Goro sets up for them during one of their lessons, and Nagisa bridging his reins with unbridled anticipation as their old trainer points them towards a small upright to warm up over. He, walking idly around on Calantha, had declined the offer to jump, much to Nagisa's loud disappointment and Makoto's quiet amenability. Although his mare would have had no objection in popping over a small course, he knows that her heart lies more in executing an impressive extended trot or canter pirouette, and he would rather allow her to prove her worth there than in a speciality that neither of them have been overly interested in doing.

Chunky reaches out to push at his hip for more polos, and Haru swiftly withdraws from his recollections to give the gelding a rub under his chin. Trying to deter the cheeky horse from giving him a playful shove, they reach the entrance of the barn where Nagisa starts to unbuckle the girth and Haru willingly reaches down to remove Chunky's tendon boots. Waiting for Nagisa to return with a headcollar, Haru's fingers wander up the buckskin's forehead to rub at his ears. By the time the younger boy returns, swinging the lead-rope around his wrist, Chunky is leaning against Haru with his eyes closed, angling his head to give his masseuse better access to his ears.

"If I'd known for sure that you were coming, I would have offered you a ride on him," Nagisa comments as Haru finishes undoing the noseband and slips the bridle off. Chunky cranes his neck around to itch his flank, twisting so awkwardly that Nagisa shakes his head in disbelief before fastening the headcollar around his head.

* * *

><p>By the time they scrape the excess water off the little gelding, Haru is practically soaked. He is pretty certain that Nagisa was a little more exuberant with the hose than necessary, but for some unexplainable reason, the coolness against his skin is soothing, despite the fact that it is twenty degrees outside. After putting Chunky back in his stall and covering him with a light net blanket, Haru stands by his door and placates him with a few more polos until Makoto steps out from a stable leading a bright bay mare.<p>

Tall yet finely built, Tamira is a lovely mare to admire aesthetically. Haru can't help his eyes roving over her long, muscled legs, elegant head and leaf-shaped ears that flick back and forth at the sounds of rustling bedding and distant shouts of instructions outside. As Makoto wedges his foot into the stirrup and mounts, she turns to regard Haru astutely. Her brown, intelligent eyes are inquisitive but comprehending; it feels a little peculiar wondering just how much she can read him at that moment. But then Makoto nudges her gently, and she responds with quiet obedience, giving a short swish of her tail that almost catches Nagisa in the face as they both set off towards an empty arena away from the riding school.

Once in the ring, Makoto is quick to make sure that Nagisa has closed the gate behind them securely. Although Tamira is one of the most honest horses he has ever ridden, she is easy to startle and often skittish for reasons he has never quite been able to fathom. He gives her a loose rein to begin with, flexing the mare to the left and right for several strides and pushing her walk forwards to encourage her to stretch out. After a couple of minutes, he gathers up his reins and moves into a trot, still flexing Tamira's neck to and fro and circling around several small jumps before changing direction. She is keen to respond; he flexes her for a little longer to the left, because it is her stiffer side, and after throwing in a few trot-walk, walk-trot transitions, he quickly resolves to improve upon getting her to use her back and haunches more when she goes into the downward movement.

He becomes aware of Nagisa throwing a leg over the lower rail of the fence to clamber into the arena, and he angles Tamira into a shoulder-in away from the younger boy's direction to detract her from spooking at the new movement. As he allows himself to throw a quick glance over towards the others, Nagisa gesticulates wildly, pointing to the small jumps he previously circled.

"Do you want me to put up some crosses?"

Automatically, Makoto shakes his head before shouting back. "No, I won't jump today. But could you set out some cavaletti poles instead?"

As Nagisa enthusiastically begins to heave a pole over to the centre of the ring, Haru languidly slides a leg across the bar of the fence to enter last. He wears an impassive expression as Nagisa eagerly points out to the jumps dispersed around the arena, but displays no visible signs of grievance in allowing himself to be manoeuvred around, collecting poles and counting the strides in between. Makoto circles Tamira not too far away, re-joins the track and bends her neck inwards, pushing her haunches further out in a travers movement before sneaking a few glances at the others working to lay out his planned exercise. He can't help a small smile crinkling his features as he sees Nagisa thrust several plastic jumping blocks into Haru's arms for him to prop up the poles before re-measuring the distances meticulously.

After straightening Tamira up down the long side, Makoto urges her into an extended trot, secretly marvelling at the way she immediately responds to his aids and how she flicks out her hooves. Satisfied, he then begins to collect her down the second-half. The mare is less willing to close than to open out; he starts to apply more leg when she suddenly pivots away to the inside, skidding as she whirls to face the fence line and snorts loudly. His heart rockets up his throat into his mouth as he instinctively grips with his thighs, fingers tightening on the reins. He can feel his upper body swaying slightly at the momentum of the sudden movement. The increased contact of his hold only unnerves Tamira more; she prances to the right, her neck almost vertical and ears fixed forwards as she blows loudly through her nostrils again. Makoto tries to soothe her, reaching out to run a hand down her neck and rubbing her shoulder, but she pays him no heed.

"What happened?" Nagisa's voice breaks the tension, almost drowned out by the sound of Tamira's snort that has now become more dragon-like than horse.

"No idea," Makoto calls in exasperation, even though he senses a tenor of fear in his tone. He gathers up his reins, closes his thighs tighter and pushes Tamira forwards, clicking to try to reel her attention back. She moves off, but he can feel the stiffness in her movements, and her head is still angled towards the outside as if determined to keep an eye on the ominous threat. He urges her to trot, circling wide and coming back to the fence line, resolved to take her past quietly. The mare is still tense, her back taut as a wire, but she does not shy away.

He hears Nagisa calling, telling him that the poles are ready. He tears his gaze from Tamira to the middle of the arena, where he spots younger boy waving to catch his attention. Haru has taken a seat on one of the jumping blocks, his face unreadable as he watches Makoto turn his mare towards the centre and go into a sitting trot. The sight of the new exercise sends Tamira practically running forwards, and Makoto lets his weight drop deeper into the saddle, collecting her stride as they approach. The mare picks up beautifully, her set mentality not to touch any pole carrying through her elevations, which paints a wide grin across Makoto's face as he finishes the turn and comes back. Haru hasn't moved from his perch on the jumping block; when Makoto teases him by asking whether he really trusts Tamira enough not to move away from her, Haru says he'd know before she could try.

* * *

><p>Makoto finally puts his foot down in preventing Nagisa elevating the poles higher than twelve inches. Deciding to invest some more time on her canter work, he moves away from the centre and asks for the canter. It has always been his favourite gait; her movement rocks him slightly in the saddle, but her forward pace gives her a smooth rhythm that makes her comfortable on a course. He flexes her to each side before circling and changing leads to repeat the movement on the other rein. After a few leg-yields, he gives her a short breather, allowing her to wander back to the middle where Nagisa is attempting the cavaletti exercise himself, awkwardly hopping over the poles as he picks up his legs comically and flaps his arms. Tamira watches him with interest, her head raised slightly as if a little unsure of what to make of this sight. But Makoto swears that if she could, she would have smirked.<p>

"I reckon I'd make a good show jumper myself," Nagisa declares as he walks back to Haru. "I could do the six-bar."

"You'd probably fall flat on your face," Haru remarks indifferently.

"Not as a horse." Nagisa straightens, rolling back his shoulders and standing tall. At the sight of Makoto and Tamira walking over, his head tilts to one side thoughtfully. "Done already?"

"Just a little more canter work." Makoto runs his fingers through Tamira's silky black mane before looking down at Haru considerately. "I'm almost finished, so you can go and see Calantha now if you want."

Haru's sea-coloured eyes flit upwards in response. Although his face is composed as usual, Makoto recognises the keenness in his gaze and subtle shifting of his feet in suppressed anticipation. With a knowing small smile, he adds, "see you in ten."

He isn't surprised when Haru stands quickly, reaches out to trail his fingers down Tamira's face tenderly before turning to head off swiftly towards the gate. Watching him go, Makoto smiles at the unusually sharp movements of his walk, sensing that Haru is attempting to contain his excitement as he slips out of the arena and heads towards the first barn.

* * *

><p>The smells of horses and hay seep out from the barn up through Haru's nose as he strides inside. Glancing down the aisle, he can see that several doors are open wide, their occupants obviously out on hacks or in lessons. A few of the horses that are still inside lift their heads from dozing as he passes by, and a friendly bay stretches out his neck to nudge his shoulder as Haru strokes his nose. He stops at the gold plaque engraved with a familiar name, and when he leans over the stable door, his words are like soft music as he calls to her.<p>

A grey mare looks up curiously from nibbling the leftovers of her hay. Upon seeing Haru's face, her ears prick forwards and she abandons her foraging to quickly walk over and lean her muzzle into her old rider's outstretched palm. Smoothing the forelock from her dark, kind eyes, Haru kisses the velvet of her muzzle before retrieving his polo packet and digging out several. A small smile graces his features as the mare's breath begins to turn minty after eating a quarter of the packet. Reaching up to rub her crest behind her ears, he watches as her upper lip droops in contentment, wiggling slightly as he finds a comfortable spot lower down her neck. She leans further down to give him better access, and he shifts a little closer to let her rest her chin on his shoulder as he continues to press circles into her skin. Laying his cheek against hers, he tips his head back to whisper in her ear.

"I'm sorry it's been so long." She seems to lean a little further into his shoulder at this.

Nostalgia sweeps over him as Haru closes his eyes and lets his thoughts carry him back. _He is twelve years old, walking Calantha on a twenty metre circle as Makoto breaks from the group to canter around the arena, then come across the diagonal and execute a smooth flying change. When it is his turn, he gathers his reins a little shorter, his index finger rubbing her wither soothingly before he asks her for a walk-canter transition. His mare gives a small spring, her shoulders rising and haunches coiled tightly, but doesn't toss her head disrespectfully, letting Haru sit to her rhythm and take her around the track before turning for the diagonal and shifting his outside leg back barely an inch. It is as if Calantha has already predicted this command; she has done it so many times before and she is determined to give a good performance. As they make a graceful downward transition to walk, Goro calls them over so that he can suggest a new movement that perhaps the pair of them can practise on while he starts to set up some small cross-poles for Nagisa and Makoto._

_Five minutes later, Nagisa whoops gleefully as his little bay gelding soars over the last cross, dropping his reins after slowing to a walk to pat his horse with both hands. Swivelling round, Goro studies Haru and Calantha's progress along the diagonal, and a wide grin splits his face as he watches the grey mare switch into a series of elegant two-tempis changes across the arena. When they come over to him, Goro reaches out to clap a hand on Calantha's neck proudly._

"_You should think about entering some dressage competitions at some point," he suggests, a note of excitement colouring his voice. "She's never done more than a few fun dressage tests here over the years, but you two could really sweep the judges off their feet with those movements even in a novice class."_

_Haru's gaze wanders across to Makoto and Nagisa, the latter giving him the thumbs-up and winking encouragingly. Makoto's smile is familiarly warm and genuine. Sliding his fingers through Calantha's silvery mane, he rubs her wither again with his finger unconsciously._

"_I'll think about it," he says casually. But his eyes are shining as he answers._

* * *

><p>"Urgh." Nagisa hastily wipes the sweat from Tamira's neck on her numnah. The mare cranes her neck round to eye him reproachfully, her tail swishing as Makoto gives her an appreciative pat and a kiss on the crest.<p>

"Think I'll walk her a bit more before taking her back." Makoto looks at the dampness of Tamira's coat and squeezes her into a walk. Nagisa keeps up alongside, to which the mare sees as an opportunity to itch her forehead vigorously against his shoulder, almost sending him tripping into the dirt.

"If your horse didn't weigh over a thousand pounds I'd shove her back."

A shrewd smile lifts the corners of Makoto's mouth as Tamira stretches to give Nagisa another hearty shove. Shortening the contact of his reins, he fiddles with the bit to steer her away, tutting disapprovingly when he notices her altering her pace ever so slightly to keep parallel to the younger boy.

"So how did you convince Haru-chan to come?"

The cunning expression on Makoto's face is suddenly emphasised by the mischievous gleam in his eyes. "What do you think? Only the prospect of seeing a horse is going motivate Haru into doing anything."

"Hmm, you play him too easily, Mako-chan." Nagisa's cheeky grin is infectious. Makoto can't help but mirror it.

"Only because he makes it too easy."

They are passing the far side of the arena when the sound of clopping hooves jerks Tamira's head up sharply. By instinct, Makoto's fingers clench around the reins, whitening the tops of his knuckles as the mare beneath him scoots to the left, narrowly avoiding Nagisa's foot as she swings her haunches to face the approaching horse.

It is a few more seconds before they catch a glimpse of a piebald horse plodding alongside a girl and a riding-school instructor Makoto automatically recognises. Although the girl's helmet is still securely fastened, Makoto is sure that Nagisa too can make out the glint of auburn hair tucked behind her ear.

"Gou-chan!" Nagisa dodges around Tamira to throw up an arm in greeting, waving energetically at the girl who halts in abrupt surprise.

Even from a distance, Makoto notes how Kou has grown taller over the summer. In comparison to the couple of months before summer, she now stands almost level with the gelding's withers. Her body language has also changed; her tall confidence shadows the hesitant shakiness he had seen tremor through her body when she had first been given the piebald to ride. Now, she doesn't mind when he nudges her roughly as she stops by the fence where Nagisa has hoisted himself up onto to talk to her. Pressing his heels into Tamira, he directs her over to them, where Kou is absentmindedly tickling her horse's chin as he fiddles the hem of her shirt with his lips.

"I didn't know you came up in the mornings, Nagisa-kun."

"Eh, usually I don't, but Haru-chan exercises his horses at five-whatever in the morning and I asked Mako-chan to invite him over after he finished breezing."

"Haruka-senpai is here?" Kou's eyes peruse the arena almost automatically, then sweep towards the direction of the barns. "That's a good coincidence, because my brother is too."

"Here?" Makoto hears himself ask, words tumbling from his lips. Catching sight of him and Tamira, Kou's eyes brighten as the bay mare delicately reaches out to sniff the piebald gelding, whose ears prick up instantly as he thrusts his own nose forwards.

"Mm. He only got off the train two and a half hours ago, but because mum had to leave for an early appointment she asked him to take me."

"But that's great," Nagisa insists avidly, legs dangling off both sides of the fence as he rocks back and forth. "We haven't seen Rin-chan since before summer at Newmarket."

"We were thinking of going out for lunch after finishing up here," Makoto puts in, unconsciously twining his fingers in Tamira's mane. "You and Rin are welcome to come if you have the time."

Kou's expression lights up with an eagerness akin to Nagisa's. "I'll ask my brother as soon as I untack Bellero and put him back in his stable." She gives the gelding a fond scratch behind his ears before turning him away and towards the barns. Nagisa pulls his leg over the fence and hurries to join her, launching straight into a list of ideal places to celebrate a reunion accompanied by delicious food.

Makoto leans forwards to smooth his palm down Tamira's neck. She stirs from her doze; ears flicking forward when he leans forwards to murmur that a bag of carrots are waiting for her back at the barn.

* * *

><p>Haru doesn't realise how much he has missed Calantha until he unlocks her stable door and settled himself in the corner with her nose resting in his lap. She stands over him like a mother to a foal, eyes closed contentedly, her breath warm in his palms as he slowly strokes her face and traces patterns against her cheek.<p>

If someone were to find him sitting there, he wouldn't care. The thought of Makoto and Nagisa coming to look for him is almost upsetting. Shuffling a little further into the corner, he hopes that if someone does throw a glance towards their stall, they will only see a grey mare dozing peacefully.

When the resonating footsteps of someone entering the barn pulls his mare from their cocoon of solitude, Haru sucks in an exasperated sigh. He keeps his eyes focused on Calantha and watches her ears move, trying to trace the rhythm of the footfalls to either Makoto or Nagisa. After a few seconds, he finds himself ceasing attempts to pinpoint the pace of footsteps to either of them. Tearing his gaze away from his mare, he snatches a quick glance upwards and sees nothing. But about half a minute later, a tall boy with dark red hair leans over the stable door and pauses upon seeing him sitting cross-legged on the ground with Calantha's muzzle resting in his hands. Haru's face is set and indecipherable. But Rin merely lets a wide smirk quirk the corners of his mouth and releases a short huff of laughter.

"I knew you'd be here."


End file.
